


Some Feeling

by gelos



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bard Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Jaskier | Dandelion, Witcher Jaskier | Dandelion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27034213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gelos/pseuds/gelos
Summary: There isn't much Jaskier can say. Geralt is, simply, one of the most fascinating people he's ever met. The bard is sweet, gentle with his words yet rough with his actions. The crowd loves him every time, especially the ladies. He sings of heroics and heartbreak, of faraway lands and monsters, the greatest love stories and broken homes. He does all that while having great hair and the most beautiful face Jaskier has ever seen.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 3
Kudos: 66





	Some Feeling

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [the fanart](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/701197) by wannastayugly. 



> I gave Jaskier golden eyes but kept Geralt's white hair (I know). This was super self indulgent and a great exercise. I had never written reversed roles like this. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Also inspired by [this prompt list](https://bucky-plums-barnes.tumblr.com/post/184264433918/50-clich%C3%A9-tropes-and-prompts-its-my-first-prompt)
> 
> Title from the song "Some Feeling" by Mild Orange. 
> 
> Not beta'd.

There isn't much Jaskier can say. Geralt is, simply, one of the most fascinating people he's ever met. The bard is sweet, gentle with his words yet rough with his actions. There's not one song from him Jaskier doesn't love, one single lyric that he hasn't committed to memory. Oh, and his voice. Rough and deep and breathy at times.

The crowd loves him every time, especially the ladies. He sings of heroics and heartbreak, of faraway lands and monsters, the greatest love stories and broken homes. He does all that while having great hair and the most beautiful face Jaskier has ever seen.

The first time Jaskier met him was in a tavern in Posada, and his performance completely threw him off guard. With a lute in his hands, the bard sang with his eyes closed about a love lost to a vicious monster, one that Jaskier noted to not exist. Jaskier immediately noticed the artist singing on that stage did not look like a bard. Not that being a bard, or any occupation for that matter, had any sort of requirements when it came to appearance. But this man was tall - taller than Jaskier - and of muscular physique. His hair was long, down his shoulders and, most surprisingly, the hair was white as snow. You rarely saw people like on stage.

As the last note played, Geralt tossed his head back along with the beat, showing how lost he was in his own music. Although this song might have not been the most appropriate to a tavern full of grown and brute men drinking, not one complaint was heard.

The crowd was thanked and coin gathered before the impossibly tall and handsome bard headed towards the bar.

Jaskier might be known, among his brothers, for his impulsiveness when it comes to lovers and crushes. He likes the occasional loves, the ones that burn in passion for one night and in the morning leave with no hard feelings. He also likes the idea of romance and shared intimacy with someone. Sometimes, those two aren't mutually exclusive. Jaskier adores those times. But, from time to time, the loneliness of life on the path is too much, even for him. From time to time, he finds someone he wishes he could spend several nights with, someone who captures his curiosity and makes him want to ask every single question he can remember, so that he knows that person so completely no one could ever erase them from his way of being, despite him living hundreds of years.

So Jaskier eyed the man sitting on a stool drinking his ale peacefully, and that curiosity crept over him all over again in so many years. Without even thinking twice, Jaskier got up and approached the bar.

"You know, the monster in your last song isn't real."

The place was now filled with noises of pointless and avid conversations, laughs and shouts from people having fun. The atmosphere was dark, only with soft lighting from candles and oil lamps scattered around to brighten it.

Jaskier tried not to stare, yet he inevitably noticed the man's remarkable profile, long eyelashes and hard jawlines

"And how would you know?"

"Oh, I don't know. I know my fair share about monsters..."

When the bard finally looked up from his drink, blue eyes and a gentle grin on his face, Jaskier's heart skipped a beat.

"Hmm... You're a witcher," the white-haired man said. It might have been the sword at Jaskier's back, the armour or, most likely, his golden eyes that gave him away.

"I'm Jaskier. Pleased to meet you."

"Geralt of Rivia"

They shook hands, and Jaskier was surprised to feel how soft and strong Geralt's hands were against his own.

"Well, Geralt, I was fascinated by your ballad and your performance," he said while signalling for a drink to the barkeep.

"Apparently it was not accurate enough."

"I can help with that…"

And the rest, as they say, is history. It's been almost one year since that day and Jaskier is still not sure how he convinced Geralt to follow him on his adventures across the continent.

It didn't take too long for them to become close friends. Jaskier asked him any question he could remember, thinking the curiosity and desire to know Geralt intimately would soon fade and turn into something much more mild and friendly. Instead, he became familiarized with Geralt's broody mood in the mornings and to his humming throughout the day. Geralt tending to Jaskier after a hunt became the norm and late conversations at night by the fire were expected when they camped while on the path. Having Geralt with him meant company while gathering firewood, and having someone to patch wounds he couldn't quite reach, big, firm hands touching at hurt skin.

It was all very intimate in his eyes, yet astonishingly platonic. Not that it was a bad thing, Jaskier just didn't want it that way. Once again, he learnt he should always be careful with what he wishes for. Geralt got hold of him in such a way that he would never be the same. He gave Jaskier the intimacy he so deeply craved, yet never really saw through him and how much he wanted him.

Tonight they're at an inn and Geralt convinces the keeper to give them a bedroom for the night in exchange for a performance (turns out he's been gaining a little reputation with the songs he has written about Jaskier).

Just before performing, Geralt fixes his clothes, making sure he's well presented for the stage. He is wearing a gorgeous black vest, with a chemise pleated at the sleeves, and he has a stupid hat on that looks surprisingly good on him (everything looks good on him) with some of his hair tied up at the top, fine strands of white hair framing his face. Jaskier doesn't know how the hell he buys such beautiful clothes and how he maintains them so well kept while travelling with him.

Throughout his performance, Jaskier stays in his corner, has a beer or two, and watches attentively to every word Geralt sings. It's probably the thousandth time he does, not once it being boring. Geralt keeps it refreshing and new no matter how many times he steps on a stage.

Afterwards, when they are inside the room offered to them, ready to rest for the night, Jaskier finds himself distracted, lost to Geralt. He observes him moving around the room, the way he unties the buckles of this armour and puts it on the chair by the door, how he shivers with the cold but doesn't rush to put something on. _How does such a huge man move so gracefully?_ The air smells of leather, Geralt's soap and burning wood.

"You've been doing a lot of that lately," Geralt says while dropping his bag onto the floor, both the sound of his voice and the heavy bag hitting the ground breaking Jaskier's train of thought.

"Sorry, what?

"The starring, Jaskier. You've been doing a lot of that lately."

"Oh...Have I?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, just tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong. I…I simply enjoy looking at you. You fascinate me. "

There's no simple explanation as to why Jaskier says that. He's never been this straightforward when it comes to his feelings towards Geralt. Sure, maybe he flirts once or twice and compliments him more than once, but all in good fun and in a way that could be interpreted as Jaskier being friendly. He's never had the guts to outright come on to Geralt, he wouldn't do that. Tonight though, he feels warm inside, and it can't be all the ale he drank. It's something else. Something making him loopy and smiley and entirely sentimental.

He's not sure what really came over him.

Geralt stops in his tracks and eyes Jaskier "Why?"

Jaskier can admit that question frustrates him, but it doesn't really surprise him. He huffs and looks up at the ceiling for a second, in disbelief, before making a point of locking eyes with Geralt,, "Why? Geralt, have you seen yourself? Have you _heard_ yourself?" He walks a few steps to be closer to him. "You have the voice and the looks of a God. You're mysterious yet kind, talented enough to put to rest any other bard on this Continent, and you've endured me and my lifestyle for a whole year and you've not said a word. You're magnificent, Geralt of Rivia."

Geralt's cheeks pink up, and he looks down at his feet for a second but doesn't move away.

Just as usual, Jaskier spends more time speaking than he's probably allowed to. This is all too much. It's way too soon for Jaskier to feel something this strongly towards Geralt. He understands now what it is, the name for it so clearly surfacing in his mind.

"Geralt, I think I'm in love with you."

Geralt is looking at him like he's seen a ghost. He opens his mouth and closes it in an instant, taking a few seconds to collect himself.

Regret washes over Jaskier. A million made-up scenarios of how this could go wrong flash behind his eyes, and he's preparing to say something, lie, apologize, beg for forgiveness, and then-

"I think I'm in love with you, too," Geralt says in his rich voice slowly, as if he's only realising it now too.

The look on his face is too much to bear. An openness and transparency Jaskier has never witnessed before.

He places his hand on Geralt's chest and leans up to his face. He wants to kiss him, wants to taste his lips and whisper lovely things into his ears. He wants him all.

When their lips touch, electricity flows through them both. They're not in any way close enough.

Jaskier has the whole night to fix that. 


End file.
